


The Beast and The Moon

by wolfdancer333



Category: Bleach
Genre: Affection, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Feels, Attraction, Beauty and the Beast Elements, Bonds Beyond Time, Drama & Romance, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Fairy Tale Style, Heavy Angst, Hurts So Good, Naked Cuddling, Not Canon Compliant, Possessive Behavior, Possible Character Death, Post-Canon, Post-Chapter 686: Death & Strawberry, Romantic Angst, Sad and Sweet, Soul Bond, Soulmates, Their Love Is So, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, True Love, Twisted and Fluffy Feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-18
Updated: 2018-08-18
Packaged: 2019-06-29 09:05:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15726276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfdancer333/pseuds/wolfdancer333
Summary: The Beast loved the Moon so much that when he lost her, he lost himself. Is there no future where they can end up in happily ever after? Or is there Fate always meant to end in disaster?





	The Beast and The Moon

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!! I am so happy for everyone who joined this story! For now, it is one chapter. However, like Ice Queen, I intend to fully continue this plot line! The tags and characters may change as I add new elements. I hope you really enjoy this and all the future chapters! :)
> 
> There may trigger warnings throughout so I will be sure to add a note at the beginning of the chapter and at the scene!

What are fairy tales? Are they legends of some deeply kept secret or made up stories used to frighten children before bed? Or are they, perhaps, something ancient and true, passed down through the ages as a myth through the fear that just maybe, they aren’t stories at all? One thing is for certain: not all fairy tales start with once upon a time and end in happily ever after. How does this fairy tale begin? Ah, well, you see, it starts off like any other…..

With a girl – we shall call her a princess but she will grow to be everything but the frilly, quiet princess you might be thinking of – born into the world, a fragile soul reborn from a previous life into this new incarnation. She, of course, will remember nothing of who she was – the memories of orange hair, a love lost, and tears wept over what could have been – and the memories, the ones she loved, will all fade into her soul, locked away as precious keepsakes. This girl was born a snowy, winter night in December, never knowing the wheels that begun to turn at her birth. 

That same night, as Fate would have it, a woman would pass in the arms of her husband from an illness that haunted her into this new life, extinguishing the flame of her soul. But it could not erase the whispered words to find the half sister left behind and perhaps, maybe Hisana remembered in those moments, gazing into the grieving eyes of her husband as she made him promise to find this child and raise her as his own. She died that very night, the same night that Rukia was born into the world, her soul flaring to life once more. 

She was a small baby, swaddled in a pure white cloth the colour of the moon. It was here, that night, where her mother – a woman who shall not be named for the many names she had to all the men she had taken was numerous – left her in the barn she had birthed her, with not a single glance backwards at the gentle fragile light she was leaving behind. As the snow fell and the moon rose higher, cold blanketed the small, sleepy village of Seireitei in a tight grasp. This is where the story truly begins, where Rukia’s Fate once again reaches out for the Black Sun.

His feet crunch into the freshly fallen snow, his small black boots leaving behind indents as he strode forward. The cold wintery winds whipped around him, his long black hair billowing out behind him like a cloak of darkness. A small torch light in the distance called to him, beckoned him forward, his eyes hard and narrowed. There was a grief that swirled in those eyes, threatening to drown him, and he grit his teeth, fought against the pain in his chest, pushing toward that small little barn with the lit torch. If he could rest there, he could reach the grave before nightfall to pray and head home before the sun rose. 

The closer he got, the thicker the snow began to fall and the colder the winds that slapped at him became. By the time he reached the barn, he had an arm lifted to shield his face from the onslaught of the winter storm. Once safely inside the dimly lit barn with the doors safely secured behind him to keep out the cold and the snow, he turned and shook his head. Small, white flakes dusted out of his long hair as he patted down first his white tunic, tied at his waist by a black sash, and then the loose, white pants. When he stood, he blew his breath into the cold air, frowning at the way it burst into steam, his breath travelling upwards.

His gaze roved the barn, plan formulating in his mind for the night, when he heard it. At first, he shook it off as the winds that had picked up and were smashing against the barn in an attempt to steal his warmth from him. The second time the small, frightened cry – barely a noise at all – rang out, his gaze snapped to the very back, where the tendrils of the torch light by the doors of the barn did not fully reach. Cautiously, he approached the darkness of the barn and froze, inhaling sharply at what he found. 

There, swaddled in a pure white blanket, lie a baby. Though she was frightened, judging by the way her eyes constantly flickered and her body trembled in the blanket wrapped firmly around her, she did not cry. Most babies are born with blue eyes, until the pigment in their eyes develops into the colour they will have for their entire life, but the moment that small, fragile soul met his eyes with her own, Byakuya fell to his knees for the first time in his life. Eyes wide, he stared into the violet-blue depths his wife had smiled at him with and before he could stop himself, he found his hands reaching for the baby.

She wiggled at first, unsure of his intentions, until he brought her to his chest, cradled in his arms as he stared down in disbelief at the child he had promised he would find. It was only hours ago his wife had passed, promise made, and yet here he was, holding that promise in his arms. The small little baby with the violet eyes met his and he couldn’t look away at the intense emotion in those innocent orbs. Something so small and new to the world shouldn’t have eyes like this, he thought. But the more he stared, the more her lips twitched until, finally, a small smile bloomed. It crinkled those eyes in the pure joy in that smile and Byakuya vowed, a surge of fierce and hot protectiveness swelling within him, he would love her with everything he had.

Clutching her tighter to him, he stood and made his way towards the light of the torch. Most of the stalls were empty and dusty, a sign they hadn’t been used in ages, but one nearest to the front was piled with hay. Cradling her in one arm, Byakuya dusted the hay aside with a foot, creating a pile of the hay. He settled down on the cold floor of the barn, keeping the child in his arms, and used his free arms to pull the hay over his body. It tumbled down around him, covering him in a scratchy but warm blanket. Sweeping the bristles away from the baby’s face, he lowered his arm into the hay so she was settled against his chest and his arm was resting on the hay like a cushion.

Looking down at the baby, her eyes falling closed, he remembered the name Hisana had quietly uttered in her last moments. That name fell from his lips in a firm whisper as he felt his own gaze slip closed, a winter storm roaring outside.

“Rukia.”

She’d slept through the night and when Byakuya awoke, dawn’s light was streaming down from the cracks in the rafters of the rickety barn. Seeing the way light fell through the roof, the way one wall of the barn was tilted, almost ready to cave in, he wondered how they had survived in this barn through the storm. His gaze fell on the torch and he blinked in rapid succession but the more he looked at it, the harder his gut squeezed. Brushing and kicking away the hay gently, he stood with Rukia cradled in his arms, her small belly expanding with her every breath. Calmly, he approached the torch, lifting his free hand to graze his fingertips over the blackened burn.

He recoiled instantly, shielding Rukia and glancing around the barn in a fervour. That was impossible. He had seen that torch lit last night, however, the head of it was ice cold and dusty as if it had been burned years ago and left to rot. A sharp, cold shiver travelled down his spine and he hastily removed the wood block keeping the barn doors closed, striding out into the breaking dawn. The sun had yet to completely rise and he could see the large tree up ahead on the small hill where Rukongai Forest lied behind it, dark and foreboding. 

He took a step toward the tree, gaze falling to the gray stones piled as a grave marker but hesitated, looking down at the slightly stirring Rukia. His heart ached and yearned to go see that grave where his wife was buried, his precious and beautiful Hisana, but this tiny baby needed him. _Rukia_ needed him, he corrected, and instantly knew the decision he had to make. It was hard turning from her grave and though Byakuya was not emotional by default, the sting of tears pierced his eyes as he pushed his feet to move through the thick snow that coated the ground. He moved forward, to Seireitei Village that lie bathed in the blue-pink light of dawn, and he didn’t look back.

In most fairy tales, the princess is loved by all. She is sweet and kind, demure, and dreams of a prince that will whisk her to her dreams! But this is no normal fairy tale. This is the tale of a girl who was not loved by all. She was not demure…..Instead she was blunt and teasing, witty and strong. A princess is kind and loved by all and though Rukia _was_ kind, her kindness was guarded by the icy walls of her heart. These walls were as strong as steel and though Byakuya loved her – he doted on her in his own unique way – there were some in Seireitei who would look at her as if she was the filth on the bottom of their shoes.

At first, she had not thought much of it and simply ignored them. As she got older, the quiet whispers and loathing glances became more prominent the more time passed by. That fated day at the barn, when Byakuya had brought her to the home he had shared with Hisana, was the day he realized her destiny. Once the white blanket had been pried from her pale skin, she was laid bare and for a moment, all Byakuya could do was stare in horror. A twisting, curving, looping mark – a seal in ice blue that glimmered like ice itself – was branded across her chest. There was a legend Seireitei spoke of but not a good one. In this one, there is a terrible beast that ravages Rukongai Forest, searching for what?

No one knows but as the tale goes, he searches for his heart, for a love lost. Any children wandering the Forest were taken and never returned. The adults who ventured forth, well, all that was left were their horrifying screams as they were devoured and claimed by the darkness that lurked in the thick trees. Sometimes, on full moon nights, you could see his amber-brown irises – slitted and glowing – glinting from between the trees, watching and waiting. If you listened, sometimes you could hear him breathing, waiting for the next unfortunate soul to wander into his depths.

No one breached the Forest and long ago, some say when the beast was born though no one knew when that had been or how long the creature had existed, the fairy tale spoke of a marked child of the Moon, a child born of the same wretchedness as the beast. As the story goes, the beast had loved a woman who was made of ice, the two souls fated and intertwined. The beast treasured her, his heart, and it is said that the beast had not always been a beast at all. He loved the woman made of ice so much that when he lost her, he was reincarnated into the beast that ravaged the Rukongai, searching for that lost, dead heart. 

It was said, in many different ways of course as most stories are, that the beast had been a warrior, a Sun, and that the woman he loved, an icy Moon. Their future, however, was changed by a demon who could destroy happiness, a man of darkness, that stole their future from them and in the end, this demon took the life of the Moon. The Sun bled black and that darkness, that pain, even when he died and was reborn, it changed him into the beast that howls and roars for his heart to return to him. The demon that stole their future from them had bled darkness into the Sun, willing him into the beast he became, so that his Moon would never again love him. Destroying the happiness of not just one future for the Sun and the Moon but the happiness of any future lie in the empty hollowness of the beast. 

Byakuya, grieving for a lost wife and staring at the Fate of the small child happily gurgling at him, unaware of her future, hung his head over that cursed seal. His forehead pressed against her small little chest, he could feel the cold, icy numbness threatening to devour him and he shot up at the roar that echoed from inside his mind. It was the cry of the beast, hollow and dark, filled with a loss of a void that could never be filled. Staring at the small child he would call his sister, he was overcome with the need to protect her. Tightening his jaw, eyes firm, he held out his finger for her to take. Small, chubby hands gripped his finger, Rukia cooing and gazing up at him as he whispered to her, “I will never give you to that beast. I will protect you. I promise.”

But the villagers knew. They watched Byakuya – a respected member of the village, a council member of the Gotei 13 that held meetings every week, and despite his stoic demeanor, well loved member of Seireitei – and pitied him, that he be the one stuck with the burdened child with the icy mark over her heart. The adults grew to hate her for what she would become and the children feared her, the whispers of the adults corrupting their minds. Rukia’s childhood was not one of love from her village and the only thing she had of a princess of a normal fairy tale were the beautiful clothes her brother would buy for her.

Dresses, shirts and pants, tunics, clothes of all kinds but all of her clothing hid the mark on her chest. Once, she’d asked Byakuya and he had stared at her so intently, her eyes had filled with tears as he told her, “Tell no one. Show no one. It does not exist.”

She forced herself to believe it because if Byakuya said it, surely it didn’t exist! But she could _feel_ it. Cold swirled in her chest, always, an achingly icy numb throb that thrummed through her blood. Sometimes, she wondered if she bled snow instead of the red, stickiness she had come to associate with blood. She figured out the answer to the question when she was 5 years old, sitting on the riverbank by the village. A group of kids older than her, rocks in their hands and harsh, cold glints of their eyes, told her of the fight ahead. 

Rukia was not demure and she didn’t need a prince to save her. She fought, that day, and though she lost, covered in bruises and scrapes and bloody cuts – dripping wet from head to toe as they had tried to drown her – Rukia learned she did, indeed, bleed red. The thought comforted her somewhat, that some part of her despite this icy mark and the whispers, she was _normal_. Beaten, bloody, wet, and bruised she limped through the wooden door of the home she shared with Byakuya, grinning. Byakuya did not grin, in fact, she could not remember him ever smiling, only wearing a thin emotionless line.

His eyes, however, blazed as he sat her by the fire burning in the fireplace, gently cleaning her wounds and healing them using a magick passed down from their ancestors: a magick called Kido. It was both healing and destructive, only the members of the Gotei 13 wielded it as the protectors and guardians of the village. Yamamoto, head of Seireitei and Leader of their people, could also wield it to a terrifying degree. Though she had never spoke the words aloud – her brother had warned her to never show her weakness or her fear to others lest it be used against her – she feared Yamamoto. There was a darkness in his blank gaze that terrified her, made her skin crawl with trepidation and fear curdle her gut. 

This fairy tale is, as you see, different from all the others. Our princess is not truly a princes at all. She does not need nor want a prince, she is kind but not loved by all her people, and she is as much a warrior as a man. However, there is one thing that this fairy tale has in common with all the others, something as old and ancient as life itself. And that, my readers, is what you are here for. You have listened this long to this tale for this very thing in which you have waited and hoped for. Though it exists in all fairy tales, in our story, it is not sweet and warm and kind. No…..In this tale, love is not beautiful. It is a wretched, terrible curse of Fate, weaving through the sealed heart of an unloved, lonely girl and twining through the darkness of a beast. 

The whispers of the village, the pain of her loneliness and her cursed future, have all led to this one single moment, the very same moment you have been waiting for. Listen well, for though this fairy tale is not like the others, maybe you will see the hidden truth. For though Fate is cruel, she is also sympathetic. Two souls, fated to dance but never to touch, always meeting but never caressing, maybe their salvation depends on the truth you find in this tale. Our princess has grown, now, into a hardened woman who is as cold as the icy mark that is dug into her skin.

Our story now begins, Fate twisting unbreakable bonds in her fingers, on the day Kuchiki, Rukia’s cursed destiny is brought to fruition. 

~ * ~

“I’m telling you, it’s too dangerous Rukia!”

Looking back at the red headed boy standing in the doorway with his arms crossed and a deep frown crossing his lips, Rukia paused in packing the small, brown satchel. Looking into the skinned bag she was stuffing necessities into, she sighed gently and pushed it back on her bed. She stood to her feet and stretched, her ankles protesting at sitting on them for too long, a dull throbbing pulsing through them. Bending over she massaged the tender flesh as she replied, her tone clipped and sharp, “What else do you expect me to do, Renji? Sit here like a dumb fish and let the villagers say whatever the hell they want? Am I meant to live like this forever, until they decide to kill me themselves?”

“I would _never_ let that happen, Rukia, and you know it.” The conviction in those words made her cheeks darken slightly as she rose to her feet. 

Even standing at her full height, she was three heads smaller than Renji, his broad chest and strong shoulders prominent as he stood in the small doorway that led into her room. A small fire was lit in the paper lantern of her room, casting light over the small room and chasing away the shadows of night that fell in from her open window – a window she was planning to leave from if only her stupid and only friend would stop trying to get her to stay. Flicking her gaze to the open window, she looked out at the view where, in the distance, she could see the tall, shadowy outline of the trees that encompassed Rukongai Forest. 

The dark shadows were like gnarled fingers beckoning to her, giggling and sweetly calling her name, but it was not that that called her to the Rukongai. Over the last few years, the mark on her chest had grown colder and her chest had begun to ache. She’d not mentioned to anyone but she knew what it meant and if she was going to die, then she was going to chop the head off the beast herself, she would bring that monster down with her so at least her brother could say her name in pride. He had suffered greatly due to her and she would not sit back any longer. 

She must not have hid the darkening of her violet-blue orbs because she felt a hand fall to her thick black locks of hair, ruffling them in a familiarly irritating way that only Renji had mastered. His deep voice kept her from elbowing him, for the moment! “That stick up his ass brother of yours will tear that whole Forest apart for ya. If ya go out there, what’s it gonna do? You’ll die and we’ll be left here without ya.”

Shaking her head the hand fell away and she moved towards the window, bracing one hand against the wood frame as she gazed out into the darkness. If she looked closely, she thought she could see amber glinting from the light of the full moon. Despite the brightness of the moon’s light, not a single shred of it touched the Rukongai Forest, and not for the first time, a cold knot swelled in her gut, tightening her spine as she gripped the wooden frame tighter. Was this really the right thing to do? All her life she had never truly belonged anywhere and yet, that Forest spoke her name in a familiar way, called to her like a lover or an old friend, that made her cold heart ache for something she couldn’t name. 

There was always a word when she heard the call, a word she felt she should know deep in her soul, a word to reply to the hollow roaring that would echo from the dark Forest. There was a word to answer the sweet call of her name, it tickled the tip of her tongue like an itch she couldn’t scratch, but it never fell from her lips. That one single word danced in her mind, a cloud in the sky she couldn’t touch or a falling leaf caught in the wind and drug up out of her sight before she could catch it in her hands. She knew it but she _didn’t_ know it. 

Huffing, she turned from the window to face Renji who had crossed his arms and was staring at her with his chest puffed forward. Rolling her violet eyes upwards, she placed her hands on her hips and growled out, “Why does no one respect my god damn decisions?”

This seemed to take him off guard and he blinked, mouth hanging open, before he seemed to get a hold of his words. “Wha – That’s ‘cause this is a pretty freaking stupid move!”

Glaring over at him as she grabbed her satchel and pulled the ties closed, Rukia threw the bag over her shoulder. The weight settled against her back and determination tugged at her heart. Gripping the strap with one hand, she muttered quietly, “Move. I have to do this. I have to go into those woods and slay the beast.”

Shaking his head, Renji’s thick red hair tied into a spiky ponytail, swayed with him reminding her of a fire’s sparking flames. His crossed arms tightened. “No. This is stupid and I’m not gonna let ya die.”

When her gaze hardened, he sighed heavily and uncrossed his arms to scratch at the back of his neck, jaw tight. “At least let me come with ya. I can protect ya.”

Her stomach flipped at the thought of a travelling companion but her soul shouted at her that she had to do this alone. The mark on her chest had gotten colder, ice seeping into her body, and she knew that she probably wouldn’t make it back alive. The burden she carried, the future that awaited her, was harsh and she couldn’t subject Renji – her one and only true friend – to the torture of watching her die. 

Taking a deep breath and steeling her nerves, she tightened the hand on the strap of her satchel slung over her shoulder. She looked into those eyes that had been beside her, a painful thump in her chest at the thought of never seeing him again. Swallowing past the suddenly tight knot clumped in her throat, she held out an open arm. He was an idiot but even Renji couldn’t miss the subtle gesture. He shot forward and enveloped her into a hug, pulling her up off her feet in his arms as he held her so tight, he squeezed the air of out of her lungs. She wrapped her free arm around his back, placing her hand with her palm to the spot above his heart over his back. 

Closing her eyes to fight the pain and regret in her chest, she muttered the words she had mastered. Kido flowed from her soul and into her fingertips, through her palm, and her hand started to glow a gentle, calming sky blue. “Hakufuku. White Crawl, drape over the body and let the mind seep forth into the realm of sleep.”

As the spell slowly eased into Renji’s body, his hold began to loosen as his eyes fought the drowsiness of the spell. Pulling back and landing on her feet, she caught him as his body was covered in the warm blue glow. His eyes fought unconsciousness and when they met her own, the hurt and betrayal nearly caused her to regret her decision but she simply met his gaze, holding his own until, at last, the spell took effect. Those pools became hidden by the closed lids that fell over them, his body sinking into her own. Gently, she flipped him so he was on his back and laid him against the floor. She stared down at him and ran her fingers over the black tattoo’s she could see peeking out from his rumpled, dark red shirt. 

Rising back to her feet she raised a hand to clutch at the satchel and headed out her bedroom door. She entered the foyer where the fireplace was built into the wall, her feet slowing to a halt as she stared at that fireplace. It held a simple black pot – large enough to feed three though Rukia never questioned where said third person was – that had been used to create many warm dinners on cold winter nights. Her fingers dug into the strap as she looked at the front door, cracked probably Renji barging in after figuring out her plan, then back to the pot.

Debating, she made her decision and stepped toward the fireplace where the pot was suspended over burnt logs that were still emitting a hidden warmth as she neared closer. She took a deep breath of the smell of burnt wood, ash, and that warm, heated scent of fire that filled her belly. It stilled the iciness of her heart, if only a little. Reaching out, she ran a finger over the lip of the pot, smiling at the memories that came to her mind. This was her home, this small wooden shack that Byakuya had raised her in. No matter where she went or what happened to her, this was the place she would always call home. 

Memories filled her, warm and bright, of growing up. Cooking meals for her and her brother, laughing when they turned out good and both sharing a wince when they didn’t – however Byakuya ate every last thing she made, salt and spice and burnt to a crisp. She could remember grinning as he healed her wounds over the years, his hands gentle when he touched her but his eyes firm in reprimand when he would look at her. That grin would melt in the face of her brother’s scolding and every time he asked her – “Did you win?” – she would answer with pride – “Yes.” – and that was that. When she couldn’t answer, his touches would soften, reassuring her in the way he his Kido fell over her.

The memory of the first time she met Renji – she couldn’t even remember the times before him when they met at 7: dragging him through the door, both of them covered in mud, soaking wet, and bruised. Furious did not begin to describe Kuchiki, Byakuya when he strolled in and found a half naked Renji hugging his sister in front of the fire crackling in the fireplace. Of course, Renji had only been hugging her for saving him from drowning. The stupid idiot had woken up, seen her, and pulled her into his arms before she had a chance to yell that she was healing his stupid wounds for protecting her and that she was more grateful to him.

The moment Byakuya saw the scene – a completely different scene in his mind – Renji had been banned, and almost killed, until Rukia had managed to deliver the full story of Renji’s good heart and best intentions. Every time the red head appeared, she would giggle over the way Byakuya would stare him down until the boy was practically melting into a puddle on the floor. As they’d gotten older, however, something had changed between the two most important men in her life. His harsh stare had lessened towards Renji – though he still glared and it was still scary as hell – and the buffoon actually began meeting that stare head-on and not melting into a terrified puddle of Byakuya glared goo.

Something passed in their eyes, an acknowledgement Rukia didn’t understand and still didn’t, but she had shrugged it off as the two of them finally meeting on some level ground with one another. Moving away from the pot, she looked around the room with a fond smile, her heart aching at leaving this sanctuary behind. It was scarcely decorated – a few plants here and there, some of the things Rukia had made Byakuya growing up over the mantle above the fireplace, a thick rug in the middle of the foyer made of bear skins sewed together – as her and Byakuya weren’t very materialistic. She had her brother and he was all she had needed for so long, she didn’t see the need in having physical things that could never give her comfort the way her memories did.

Deciding she was done, she shoved the rest of the memories back and made her way to the front door. Pulling it open she headed into the darkness of night and into Seireitei Village, shutting the door quietly behind her. It was as if she’d never left…..At least until Renji woke up, which wouldn’t be for another 3 hours, and pulled the door off it’s hinges in his search for her. The night was calm, warm and inviting, and Rukia relaxed in the peacefulness surrounding her. The stars twinkled high above like little lights, the full moon shining down enough to light up the entire Village. Shadows darkened where the buildings and homes of Seireitei were pressed together, where the moon’s light couldn’t reach. 

She gazed at the Village, looking around for the last time at the place that had caused her both good and bad memories. Not everyone hated her. Most of the Village treated her with a detached kindness but then there was the other half of the Village, the ones who whispered painful stories behind her back. Rolling her eyes, she shook her head as the memories of the story she had pieced together rattled around in her mind. How could she possibly believe such an outrageous story, and about the beast no less? How could a beast have ever loved anyone? 

Demons didn’t go around stomping on happiness. The future wasn’t determined by something as flimsy as Fate and none of that would save her from the mark that was sending chills through her blood with every pump of her heart. There was no such thing and she wasn’t too sure she believed in the Beast. No one had truly seen him though there were stories and legends. Adjusting her grip on her satchel, she made sure she was dressed in everything she would need – small, thick black shoes; a white and ice blue kimono tied at the waist; dark blue form fitted pants that tucked into her shoes; a fur shoulder cloak draped over her that dangled to her ankles – before giving one last lingering look at Seireitei.

The markets were all dark and closed, empty and quiet, unlike the bustling chatter that would erupt when the sun rose. To the left, down the dirt path, she could see the torches lit at the doorway of the Meeting Hall where Yamamoto and the Gotei 13 were currently held. The door was heavily reinforced and it was the only building with light still burning. Her heart gave a pang of pain as she thought of Byakuya inside, not knowing of her plan. At the thought of his disappointment or hurting him, she had to force her body to turn away. 

Tightening her shoulders, she took one step, then another, until she found herself running. The wind brushed by her, caressed her cheeks gently as she ran, her feet pounding on the dirt path winding through the small Village. She passed quiet home after home, her heart thundering in her ears as she wondered if they could hear her leaving. Then she wondered if they cared or not at all to stop her. Her eyes stayed steady on the path before her as it curved left, cutting through an empty field. Her feet followed the path, her breath coming in pants as her hair went slack from the wind rushing through it and the heat of summer surrounding her.

Her forehead was dotted with sweat but she didn’t dare stop until she saw the dilapidated barn on the path ahead. The small field around her Village had thin grass and some yellow flowers dotting the ground. Her steps slowed as she approached the barn Byakuya had found her in, gazing at it. She’d never had the courage to go in just in case she saw something she wouldn’t be able to forget. All her memories of Byakuya were good and she didn’t want to taint them with something she could find in that barn. 

Looking over the barn one more time, she turned, walking at a brisk pace but slow enough she could catch her breath. Her clothes stuck to her skin and she winced at the ache in her feet from the pounding against the dirt path. Curling her toes, she made her way towards the hill that rose above the barn. Stepping off the path the grass was softer and uneven but she smiled at the feel of it. She bent at her knees and leaped when she reached the bottom of the small hill, soaring upwards until gravity struck her. As she fell, she looked at the pile of stones – bigger ones at the bottom fading into smaller stones – and landed on her feet before the grave. 

Hisana. Her half sister was buried here, Byakuya’s wife. Slipping the satchel from her shoulder, she bent onto her haunches, digging through the bag. Her hands wrapped around something smooth and she grinned triumphantly, pulling the small round object from the bag. She reached over, setting it atop the pile of stones, eyes softening. The small, round and smooth stone was dark blue speckled with light blue flecks that glittered in the moonlight. As she tied up the satchel, threw it over her shoulder, and stood to her feet, she remembered the day she’d found it. Byakuya had warned her – “Stay away from Rukongai. It’s dangerous. Do not go near the woods, Rukia.” – but something had glimmered at the edge of the Forest.

An intrigued 12 year old Rukia couldn’t help but follow the light of the stone, shining bright from the Sun that fell down that day. All she could remember was that stone and the intense feeling of being watched, but no matter where she had looked, she had not seen anyone looking at her. Staring into the dark depths of the Rukongai, she should have been frightened, but all she could remember was the feeling of eyes on her. The stone had been with her ever since, never having a purpose for it before, until this plan had unfolded in her mind one night.

She remembered that night clear as day. She stared down at Hisana’s grave, her hands clenching into fists at her sides, violets darkened to a blue-black. “I won’t be back.” She couldn’t say the word – dead – yet, denying this could be the last breath she took. “But I wanted to thank you. Because of you, Byakuya found me. He saved me. And because of that, I grew up happy. Thank you, Hisana.”

She bowed, bending from her waist and held still for a moment, letting the wind rustle through her hair. If she was a normal girl who believed in spirits, she would say it was Hisana running fingers soothingly through her hair. But she didn’t believe in things like that. Straightening from her bow Rukia moved to the right and took a deep breath, staring into the black depths of Rukongai. This was it. This was the moment where she took that single step that would change her life, the last step she would take would be into these woods. 

As she moved slowly forward, eyes darting around in narrowed concentration, she thought about her reason for leaving Seireitei behind. She didn’t believe in legends or fairy tales but she couldn’t help it. When she thought of the Beast, she wondered if the stories _were_ true. Was there truly a Beast in the woods? Was there really such a stupid tale of a Beast loving a woman made of ice, their happiness snatched by a demon? Her eyebrows furrowed as she stopped at the edge of the Forest, a dark wind curling at her, beckoning her to slip into those trees and disappear, to become one with the darkness.

Apprehension lined her gut and she squeezed her fists tighter. She was here to see if the legends were true and if they were, then she was going to kill the Beast. The last thing she would do before she died would be to destroy the creature that roamed these woods. The ice blue mark on her chest ached and she gasped in pain, raising a hand over her heart, gripping her kimono tightly. The pain was getting worse. It wouldn’t be too long before it became unbearable so she only had one chance. This was _her_ future, her choice, and there was no demon in the world who could change that. She dropped her hand, gripping the hem of her kimono instead, her other clutching the strap of the satchel so tight, it dug into the flesh of her palm.

With the moon’s light, she stepped into Rukongai Forest, the darkness swallowing her whole. This wasn’t a normal darkness. This was pitch black and she couldn’t see anything. No light fell into the Forest and Rukia realized with a growing dread, looking back towards the Village where the Meeting Hall torches were burning, that maybe this _was_ a bad idea. The more she stared at her Village, palms flat against the hard, rough bark that dug into the flesh of her hands, the more she wanted to run down the hill back to safety. Something stirred inside her, an emotional feeling, she couldn’t place or name. 

Furrowed eyebrows, deep frown, and hesitant violet eyes that darted from the Village and back to the darkness of Rukongai were what she wore. The fur cloak was heavy, pulling on her shoulders and useless against the bone chilling cold that curled around her skin from the Forest. It was colder than the icy mark on her chest pulsing painfully. Ready to head back, awash with shame and guilt, she took a shaking step forward. 

_”Rukia…..”_

The voice that called her name from behind her was sweet and tempting, familiar, and she craned her head over her shoulder to glance back. That same inky darkness greeted her but there was something in there, something urging her to search those depths until she found what she was searching for; and she didn’t even know what that was! Her eyes darted one last time to the burning torches, a shadow at one of the windows in the Meeting Hall, and she allowed herself to believe it was Byakuya. 

A cool breeze wiped the sweat from her brow as she whispered forlornly to the shadowy figure, hoping that maybe, the wind would carry her words to her brother. “Goodbye…..Brother.”

She swivelled around clutching the satchel’s strap with a single hand, head ducked to avoid looking back, and raced off into the Forest. She ran through the darkness, her free hand in front of her to ward off the leaves and branches that swatted at her, clawing at her as if to pull her back. As she blinked, her eyesight began to clear slightly and the pitch darkness began to take the form of darkness and black shadows. The thick trunks of the trees were long, wide shadows that arched up towards the sky. The leaves were small blobs amongst the canopy above her and though she couldn’t truly make out the ground, she could see small shrubs and bushes scattered around. 

Heart pumping and breath coming in quick pants, the pounding of her feet came to a slow pause as she glanced around the dark Rukongai for the first time. It was deadly silent. There were no insects here, no animals loitering about, no birds or bats, there was no life in these woods. The thought made her skin crawl, the hairs on the back of her neck standing on end as she glanced around quicker with focused, narrowed violets. She couldn’t see much of anything and she didn’t sense anything so with the last exhale, her breathing normal, she twisted her body and chose to head left, deeper into the woods.

Both hands were needed as she manoeuvred through the thick trees, swatting away branches that made their way past her hands to smack her in the face. The black boots she wore crunched against the soil and discarded leaves, the only noise that seemed to echo in the quiet interior of Rukongai. A heavy, suffocating weight seemed to hang over the canopy of the Forest, dripping and seeping down over anything and everything caught inside. Rukia had never felt like this before, all her senses on edge, body thrumming with adrenaline and trepidation. 

Time seemed to crawl at an agonizingly slow pace as she meandered through the Forest, searching for something – as the night wore on and the moon rose higher and higher in the starry sky, she wondered what exactly it was she _was_ searching for. A gasp escaped her, scratched and bleeding hands falling to her sides, as she saw the first sign of light in the murky woods. It was a small column, silvery and glittering, and she found herself running towards it. Stumbling through the woods, she broke out of the thick towering trees with an excited cry. 

A cave! A cave doused in moonlight and when she glanced upwards, there was a round hole in the canopy of shadowy leaves that let in the shaft of silvery light that fell on the small cave. It was a small cave, one of the smallest she had seen, but it was shelter. It would house her and a small fire but had room for no more. Narrowing her eyes and squinting, she could just make out a thin clearing right below the cave where she had stumbled into view. Body aching and tired, Rukia made her way to a small slope that would lead her up to her home for the night. 

As soon as she was inside, she dropped her satchel to the floor and sat back against one of the cool walls of her shelter. Leaning her head back she closed her eyes and let the cold rock behind her soothe the ache in her muscles. There was a quiet fluttering near her and, not realizing how tired she was had to pry one of her lids open, she peeked over at the shaft of moonlight. Both her eyes opened wide to take in the beautiful sight. There were no animals or insects or living beings that tread into Rukongai but it seemed the Forest had developed it’s own ecological system.

Fluttering and flittering about the glimmering moonlight were butterflies unlike any Rukia had ever seen. They were pitch black but almost translucent in appearance with a small maroon outline on the lower wings. It was bright against the pitch black of their wings, the insects dancing around the light as if it held a great allure to them. She blinked and held her eyes closed before opening them to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. They were larger than normal butterflies and when one of them flapped towards her, she leaned forward in amazement.

The insect hovered by her, flittering from side to side, it’s wings flapping to keep it in the air. Reaching up with a finger the butterfly circled around before softly landing on the very tip of her finger. It’s small, thin legs were ticklish and her mouth parted, smile widening in awe. A wondrous, childish glee swelled through her as the butterfly moved slowly. It approached her face that was in view and reached a small, spiny leg towards her. She knew she was probably sparkling in anticipation at this point but everything faded, almost like a halcyon dream, when the butterfly froze and then immediately fluttered away in a frenzied panic.

The cluster of insects fled and at first, she didn’t notice the small, thin hairs all rose up along her body. A small, rumbling snarl made her heart pound against her chest, fear curling in her gut as she sat back on her legs. Raising her wide violet eyes, her gaze met a pair of amber irises glaring out at her from the darkness of the opposite side of the cave, where the moonlight didn’t reach. She had been prepared, there was a dagger in her satchel, but fear rooted her to the spot. Those eyes…...The way the amber glowed from the shadows, the way they watched her…...There was something tickling the edges of her mind, a long lost memory that she couldn’t seem to find, and then the whole world trickled to a stop as the Beast stepped out from the shadows of the Forest and the cave.

He stepped into the light of the moon then stopped and Rukia gasped. The rumors were true. There really was a Beast in the Rukongai Forest for the creature that stood before her was no man. Well…..Blushing she averted her eyes from his bare lower half. So maybe he was _a_ man but he was certainly not human. There was no fur covering his body but he didn’t need any. The form that towered above her was unusually tall, almost the same height as her brother if not a head taller. Long, thick and spiky orange hair draped over his broad, muscular form and Rukia wasn’t sure if her mouth going dry was due to the panic she could feel clawing at her throat or the raw nakedness of the Beast towering above her.

His body was almost alabaster white, seeming to glow like the moon when the light hit him just right. His diamond shaped face was bone white, a colour that unnerved her, with those bright amber irises still focused entirely on her like a lion watching it’s prey flounder to escape. The black pupil of his eye was small and thin, the intense stare shooting tremors down her spine. The white sclera was tainted a horrible black that seemed to shift within the depths of those orbs. His mouth was parted in a snarl and she could see the gleaming white fangs that peeked out from his white lips. All of his teeth were sharp but the canines were a bit more elongated and Rukia, horror washing over her, realized what those teeth were probably for. 

His shoulders were thin but firm and they bled into leanly muscled arms that ended in broad hands. Her face paled when her eyes saw the long, sharp black claws that tipped each of his fingers before darting her gaze back up, violet orbs falling and staring at the Beast’s broad chest. Eyebrows furrowing, she blinked, confusion settling into her breast, at the many scars of varying sizes that littered his body. Looking over his body again, she noticed he was covered in them and a part of her yearned to reach out and run her fingers over every scar that dotted his hard, firm body.

Shaking her head frantically at the thoughts, her gaze travelled downward to his abs. Okay, this time her mouth went dry because of the muscles that met her gaze. She knew there was a reason she shouldn’t look lower but she couldn’t remember what that was. Sliding her eyes downward, they shot back up to meet the Beast’s stare with a dark, red blush as she met the sight of _why_ she didn’t look down further than his sharp hip bones and hard muscles. Swallowing past the thick lump stuck in her throat, Rukia’s breath caught as she met the Beast’s stare.

His head was cocked, something thick and black and curved at the sides of his head. It took her a moment of staring and convincing herself that she was actually seeing it but when she believed what her eyes were telling her, she nearly vaulted to her satchel but fear still kept her rooted. At the sides of his head near the top of his skull were large, black horns that curved backwards behind him ending in sharp points that tilted to the sky. Where his ears would be were elongated, fluffy ears that twitched when her gaze fell on them. 

At a swishing sound, she dropped her stare to his sharp hips – blushing as she tried not to remember what lie further south – and exhaled in surprise. A long, fluffy and scruffy orange tail that hung close to the ground swayed behind him, swishing into her sights. Trailing her gaze back to his face, she blinked and before she could scream, those golden eyes were right in front of her. Fear slithered through her body, dizziness crashing over her, as she came face to face with the monster of the legends she had refused to believe were true. 

Beast was crouched in front of her on his hands and feet, face shoved into her own, close enough for her to see that his eyes were not just amber but a honey-gold amber that glittered with specks of light brown. The black sclera was frightening up close and the horns glinted in the light of the moon. Some of his long, messy orange hair fell over his lean shoulders and into her lap. He was close enough she could hear his breathing, soft and guttural. His chest expanded and numbly, she realized he was _smelling_ her and that she should be offended, but for some reason it was getting harder to breathe, her chest was tight and a warm pain was scattering through her breast. For a moment, she thought he’d run her through on his claws.

Instead, he leaned his head closer, his nose nudging her jaw as he took another large inhale. He breathed out against the skin of her neck and instinctively her head fell backwards, the world beginning to tilt and blur around her. Vaguely, she felt a clawed hand tangle in her hair against the back of her head as his nose met the juncture of her neck and her shoulder. A final inhale released on a growl and then those gold-amber irises swam into her fading sight. 

Before she gave in to the panic and the fear that was drowning her in darkness, she almost had that word that dangled on the tip of her tongue. It was there, in her sights but then her world faded to black as she fell into the arms of the Beast.


End file.
